


Breaker Of Chains

by LordFlausch



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Yara is in Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 00:57:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12121062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordFlausch/pseuds/LordFlausch
Summary: Yara spent months in the dungeons of the Red Keep, and still never lost her faith that one day she shall come free.





	Breaker Of Chains

It was dark and cold, as usually in the cells down here. Yara may have not become used to that as to the smell and rough texture of the stone, but she wasn't particularly as prone to that as she had been in the beginning. That didn't keep her from hating it though, hating every single second she was stuck in here, without a light or just anything. Even the guards ignored her when they weren't just bringing her something to eat. She would maybe be useful as hostage, but not apart from that. She sighed, the sound oddly loud in the silence of the cells. 

She heard steps coming, hard and heavy, and immediately recognized them as the warden's. She saw the torch's glimmer before anything else and looked down not to be blinded by it. The guard stopped in front of her bars and shoved a plate with bread and a glass of water towards her before spitting out and leaving again.  
She despised him as much as he did her, but she kept her body fluids to herself rather than wasting them. Scooting over to the 'meal', she ate slowly in the darkness, drinking along with it and then leaving the plate where it was for the next guard to take it away again. Made of light and flexible wood, it had no use as a weapon anyway, she had already tried that prior and failed. A miracle her wounds from the beating then hadn't infected.

She was spending most of her time napping now, having lost the feeling for time after about a week. She wouldn't be able to tell how long she had been stuck in here. Two weeks? A month? She couldn't tell and didn't really care. As long as she was still in here, it was solely for the reason Daenerys was still alive and a threat to the woman who called herself queen. And ultimately, that was what mattered to her. She went back to the straw on the ground acting as a bed – it was wet and she still had a sore back more often than not, but again, something she'd accustomed with. At least the guards were giving her a bucket to shit in and even took that out every once in a while. She was not in a black cell, but what she had was just a little better than that. 

She hears a guard coming again, another one this time – younger, inexperienced. Annoying. He didn't dare to come into the cell, but he took his pleasure insulting her from the outside. But every time, she would resist. He was a coward. She was able to speak back without anything happening. He didn't even dare tell the guards she got him back with words... due to the fear of being thought weak, she assumed.

“Enjoying the fresh air, bitch?”

“More than you do. I would take only an ounce more and you'd puke.”

“Heard even the toughest iron gets all rusty and ugly with humid air.”

“I'd take care of the chestplate, then.”

He muted for a second, Yara smirking inwards for her first kinda win at that day. The guard growled and stepped closer to her cell, apparently taking a breath before looking around cautiously. 

“Listen, Greyjoy... I can help you to get out of here.”

She sat up abruptly, her interest awoken.

“Why should I trust you?”

“You have no other choice.”

“I do. I have the choice not to take your offer. What do you expect in return?”

“The Dragon Queen... she will win this war. I hope that if I help you, she may have mercy on me.”

“You'll betray Cersei for that?”

“She's mad! Out of her mind and a treacherous woman in herself. I despise her.”

“What even have you planned?”

“Tomorrow night, there is a party. I'm stationed here for duty and I'll get you out.”

“Will you come along with me, then?”

“No. My family lives here.”

“Fine...”

“I'll get you later.”

Yara nods, and he goes away. She lies down again, thinking about what just happened.  
Can she trust him? Can she count on what he says is true? She doesn't want to, but on the other hand, it might be her only chance to see Daenerys again. 

Daenerys.

A smile creeps onto her face when she thinks about the silver-haired beauty who, despite not being here, has made the stay in this prison easier for her. The memories she had made her feel less lonely... whether those were of a conversation somewhere in the halls of Mereen where they would talk about everything and nothing, their past and their hopes for the future, achievements and losses, adventures and tortures, or of passionate nights spent together in either her bedchamber or the cabin she has had on their journey, of stolen kisses and touches, bodies moving together in a mixture of desire and appreciation.

She loved her. Yara loved Daenerys like never anyone else and this rotting hole has made her realize that. Cersei threw her in to turn her loyalty to the Lannisters, but instead had strengthened the one she's always had for the one remaining Targaryen. And if this all would work out, she'd be reunited with her again and might be able to tell Daenerys how she felt. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, sure that the guard would wake her up when the time would come.

_She pushed Daenerys against the door to her room and kissed her hungrily, one hand holding them together at the wait and the other on the wood shortly above the Dragon Queen's head. Daenerys had hers in her neck and hair, tangling in the brown strands and deepening the kiss, parting lips when Yara's tongue darted out to lick at her lower one. When the Ironborn felt the softness of the other's tongue on her own, adding to the one of Daenerys' lips, she couldn't help but let a groan slip past her lips. Daenerys' hands wander lower down her spine, tugging at the fastenings of her leather jerkin -_

“Greyjoy! Wake up!”

She opened one eye lazily, looking at the guard who nodded at her and unlocked the gate. She got up quickly, not wasting a moment to look back into the cell. The young man leaded her through the dungeons, always cautious, peeking around the corners. He tensed even more when they arrived in the main castle, but nevertheless stuck to his plan, getting her through the maids' quarters and stopping at a small door somewhere to open it. She could see the night sky outside and smell the fresh air of the ocean, although it was covered in the stench of King's Landing.

“Thank you. I will tell Daenerys of this. What is your name?”

“Stephen Cranner.”

“I'll inform her. If you however should still be attacked, just say the words of my house and that you did sow.”

“I will. Now go, you have a long way until you reach the harbor.”

She nodded and took off as fast as her legs would carry her, headed for the location she wanted to be. Her wounds and the months she spent in the cell had their price though, and she couldn't walk as fast as she had been able to before she was captured, but that was not too important now. She didn't give herself a moment of rest, not even as she could finally see the ocean again in it's black glory it owned during the night. A breeze coming from there brought the salty smell to her nose, and she inhaled deeply, almost feeling a little better. A slight smile creeped onto her face...

… but it immediately vanished when she heard the hooves of horses behind her, and voices yelling things like “THERE SHE IS!”, the clashing of armor pieces against each other.

Guards.

She cursed once, but already knows running is futile now. They circled her with their horses, smiling down on her with expressions she'd love to hit off of their faces.

“Wanting to enjoy the fresh air? Your little trip is over.”

She didn't reply or say anything when they made her go back to the castle, and tripped once when the shaft of a spear hit her lower back. But her eyes as always remained hard and cold, unbroken as iron. Yara was brought in front of the throne, where Cersei was already waiting with a mixture of calculation and spitefulness on her face. The guard behind her forced her to kneel, but she openly stared into the Lannister's eyes, a glare that had already sent countless of Ironborn into submission.

“My queen, we found her outside of the castle. A guard had found out she'd left but we managed to get her.”

“It's a shame she could even escape. Throw her into the black cells. Set a guard at the entrance of the door. And don't feed her for a week. She shall get water, though... Bring the guard who reported her escape to me.”

“We shall.”

The guard yanked at her hair and dragged her up, making her walk down to the black cells and chained her to the wall there. The smell was even worse down here, foul and putrid, making her gag once. She hated herself for failing to escape, hated Euron, hated Cersei and the guards. She punched the stone wall once, the pain clearing her head a bit and relieving some of her anger. 

After a few hours, she could hear steps and the door opening, and as she lifted her head, she was temporarily blinded by the light of the torch that came so much more sudden down here. The guard who escorted her out of the castle stood there, smugly smiling down on her.

“Did you like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Feeling like a total idiot. Did you really think you could always talk back to me without consequences? It took me ages to figure how to hurt you best.”

“You little-”

“I've proven myself quite well, haven't I? And now I'm promoted and you in a black cell. Life is sweet, isn't it, you worthless filth?”

With that, he took a cup of water from behind his back and emptied it directly out of her reach, then turned around to leave, banging the door behind himself and again stripping her off of any light. Her rage boiled up again, this time solely focused on him. She would get him. She would get him and pay back.

She didn't know how long she spent down there. Months? Minutes? Time blurred in the darkness, and she got water and food so irregularly that measuring by that was neither an option. The one only time she did know was after a week, when meals started to be brought alongside the drink. Sometimes, it got loud above her, but she gave up on high expectations after the third. Those cells really were made to break someone, but she refused to be broken, still having faith in Daenerys. Tumult was again to be heard from upstairs, but down here, all sounded the same, mostly it were a bunch of soldiers marching or fighting over a beer or a woman. Nothing big. Only this time, the turmoil lasted for hours, making a spark of hope indeed flare to life within her. She clenched her hands to fists, not wanting that so she won't be disappointed again. Sometimes, weird sounds could be heard, vaguely familiar. It took almost forever to die down, and in that time, neither food nor water was brought down to her, so when the noises faded completely, she was hungry as hell and even more thirsty, her dreams filled with an ocean of drinkable water and eventually her thirst keeping her from sleeping altogether. 

She hated not knowing how much time had passed. It had been too long, only that was for sure. 

So when she heard steps on the corridor between the black cells, the doors all opening and closing again, it sounded like heaven to her. Finally, her door was opened as well, a figure with a torch coming in first. Yara reflexively shielded her eyes. 

“My queen, someone is in here.”

She knew that voice. 

Grey Worm.

Daenerys.

When Yara looked up through her fingers, she stood in the doorway, face illuminated by the torch, looking down on her. A scratch was on her cheek, already tended to, and she was wearing black leather and a red cape over one shoulder. Yara lifted her hand from her face, too relieved and happy to do anything but stare at Daenerys, who in return stared back, an almost hopeful expression on her beautiful face.

“Yara?”

Her throat tightened when she replied, and it hurt to even say a word.

“...my queen...”

Daenerys hand put itself over her mouth in shock, and she crossed the room in a few hurried steps, crouching down at her side and placing a hand on her cheek. Yara leaned into the touch, and couldn't help herself then, wrapping her arms around Daenerys and pulling her into a hug, breathing in the scent she missed so much, not being able to hold back a sob and hot tears. The Targaryen hugged her back shortly before loosening her grip again.

“Grey Worm, please come over.”

The Unsullied obeyed, crossing the room as well, unshackling her foot at first before holding a flask of water out for her that she greedily downed, not caring some was dribbling down her chin. Grey Worm helped her up and supported her out, while Daenerys followed behind, Yara could feel her gaze on the places where healing wounds were visible between holes in her clothes. Out of the cell, she met more Unsullied that were ordered by Daenerys to get a warm bath and a Maester to heal, following the order immediately. 

By the time they arrived in a massive bedroom, all was prepared, and the Unsullied left... albeit Daenerys did stay with her, watching when the handmaidens undressed her – sometimes cutting the rags off of her body – and her queen gasped when she saw the countless bruises and cuts, the new scars from poorly healed wounds. Yara moaned when she was let down into the warm water, which had the perfect temperature. The maidens used soft sponges to wash off all the waste and grime from her body and hair, giving her more water to drink.   
When Yara felt ready to speak again, she addressed Daenerys. 

“I assume you've taken the city?”

The queen laughed gently and smiled.

“It seems.” 

The conversation died again and stayed silent until Yara was all clean – even her hair had been washed countless times after being shortened a bit – and the Maester had applied healing balms to her body. The handmaidens got her into bed and left then, taking the tub full of greasy water with them. Yara remained on the soft sheets, naked, letting herself dry fully and feeling warm air on her skin. 

“You are terribly thin.”

“My diet consisted of bread and water. Sometimes not even bread. And nothing during the last days. How long was I in there?”

“Four months. The siege took us four days.”

“Good to know.”

Yara winked at Daenerys who seemed to look everywhere but on her body.

“Missed me?”

The queen didnÄt reply at first, instead giving her a meaningful look. 

“Did you?”

“Every day. The thought of you alive kept me fighting.”

Daenerys kept silent again, moving on the bed next to her, leaning over and kissing her once, softly and gently, not lasting longer than a few moments.

“I missed you as well.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative title: See what shit I come up with at 11 PM and write until 1 AM. I'm sorry for the OOC.


End file.
